


Making Manischewitz

by Shiredancer (SallyJ)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hanukkah, Slice of Life, The Sentinel Secret Santa 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallyJ/pseuds/Shiredancer
Summary: Just fryin' some latkes here, man.
Relationships: Jim Ellison & Blair Sandburg
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Drabble Day - due 10 Dec - Hanukkah prompt





	Making Manischewitz

**Author's Note:**

> 2020 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days - Prompt: Hanukkah

_Splat_

_Splat_

_Splat_

“Hmmm hmm mmm lalalalalalala mmhmm tumtumtum hmm..” Three minutes ticked by on the old wind-up kitchen timer.

_Splat_

_Splat_

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“Ch-ch-chaaaa chuchuchuu mmm mmmm dadadadum dum…” Three minutes ticked by on the old wind-up kitchen timer. A few minutes of silence, then:

_Splat_

_Splat_

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“Doodootdoodoo dum dum… AAAACCCCKKK!!!! Holy freakin’ shit, James Ellison, what the hell?” Blair spluttered indignantly at the hand that had just clapped over his mouth, stopping his humming and bopping mid-stream.

“What the hell?? That’s exactly what I’m wondering, Chief. As in, what the hell are you doing out here? You’re making all this noise and dancing around the kitchen like you’ve got ants in your pants.” Jim gave his very best glare, which, as usual, glanced off Blair without any effect whatsoever.

“Hey, I’m frying the latkes, man! Geez, don’t throw my timing off; I’ve got this down to a science.”

“Uh huh. Typical Sandburg weird science MST 2000, I take it?”

With greatly exaggerated patience, “Nooooooo, it’s not ‘weird science’, and that’s MST 3000 to you, Mr. So-Not-A-Nerd. See, I drop the spoonfuls of the potato pancake batter into the hot oil, time it for three minutes, flip ‘em over, time it for another three minutes – they come out perfect that way. Just wait, you’ll see.”

So just because he felt like bugging Sandburg some more, because it was so much fun, Jim couldn’t resist ragging at him, “And what’s this, Mr. Natural, Mr. Make-It-All-From-Scratch? Is that a *box mix* of potato pancakes I see here?? Tsk tsk.”

_Splat_

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“Crap, I caught those just in time. Hold off while I set the timer again. So okay, yeah, it’s a box mix, so what? In this particular case, you can’t beat Manischewitz, man. I learned that at my mom’s knee. She uses it, her folks used it, all my relatives back to the Old Country used it – well, back to whenever it was first made, anyway. I kid you not, it’s that good.”

Jim loosened up on his teasing and turned his mock-frown into a grin. “Okay, kiddo, let’s put this to the test.” He snagged one of the fresh latkes still draining on the stack of paper towels. “Ouch, hot!”

Blair rolled his eyes. “Here, put it on a plate. And try a dab of applesauce or sour cream with it. And get ready to eat your words!”

So Jim did -- put it on a plate, that is. He tried a forkful with each topping, and quickly decided that he liked the sour cream the best. Five latkes later, he stopped scarfing them down enough to concede the victory to Blair.

“So we get eight nights of these, Chief? Well, you sold me. I’m in. Box mix Manischewitz for the win.” He drifted out of the kitchen, humming happily.

Blair shook his head as he resumed frying, timing, and bopping. If his smile was a little warmer, who was to blame him?


End file.
